n the midst of lockdowns, social distancing, and self-quarantining, we are sensitized more than ever to the implications of mass migration. Just weeks before the coronavirus took hold of the United States, another crisis reemerged: an apparent renewal of mass migration toward Europe from Turkey.
This crisis has not received the attention it is due in the U.S. It may seem to be something occurring quite literally on distant shores and therefore not our concern. However, this is not the case; other than the obvious humanitarian implications, this crisis has ripple effects for the stability of our alliances, our trade relationships, and public health.
What Happened
In March 2016, the EU made a desperate agreement with Turkey to alleviate a migration crisis whose sheer numbers had overwhelmed their ability to receive and relocate refugees, leading to stiflingly overcrowded reception sites. In that deal, Turkey agreed to hold refugees traversing its territory and take back some that had left in exchange for concessions from the EU: increased funding; fewer visa restrictions; and expedited talks to realize its long-held goal of joining the Union.
Since then, Turkey has exceeded its capacity, taking in 3.6 million Syrian refugees and 4 million overall. Turkish citizens, who assumed their host duties would be temporary, are increasingly upset—and occasionally violently so. Further complicating matters, although the international community is calling for a ceasefire because of the coronavirus, a continued assault by government forces on the last Syrian rebel holdout in Idlib is likely inevitable. This would trigger a new wave of refugees.
Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan has often alleged that Brussels is not living up to its side of the deal and threatened to renege. It was perhaps unsurprising therefore when, in late February, Turkey began to allow—and possibly even help—tens of thousands of migrants and refugees to resume travel toward Europe.
The EU, despite the time the 2016 Agreement bought them, has failed to reform its system for relocating refugees. Known as the Dublin Mechanism, this system places a disproportionate burden on countries of first arrival and makes it easy for more removed countries to decline to help—even when they have committed to. The result is a bureaucratic bottleneck in frontline states, where conditions in reception centers like the ones on the Greek islands of Lesbos, Samos, and Chios remain unbearably overcrowded.
So when new refugees began arriving on their doorstep, the extreme Greek response was also unsurprising: it suspended asylum applications; increased military presence at border sites; and unconscionably tried to deter refugees by overturning their boats or firing tear gas and live rounds at them.
Why We Should Care
While global migration is slowing during the pandemic, the underlying causes of these shocking events will be waiting when the world returns to some semblance of normalcy. In the meantime, the United States must consider what this crisis means for us. If the moral imperative created by a humanitarian catastrophe is somehow insufficient, there are also concrete American interests at stake.
Most pressing, the bottleneck is creating political ripple effects that damage the cohesion of our alliances. Turkey’s irritation with Brussels regarding the 2016 Agreement is only the latest salt in the wound of a difficult relationship. Turkey first applied to join the EU in 1987 and the bloc’s persistent refusal to let them in—while often warranted—has frustrated Ankara.
Though U.S.-Turkey relations are also thorny, for different reasons, Turkey is undeniably a strategically crucial NATO country. It has the second biggest army in the Alliance and is situated in a valuable geopolitical location. The recent pattern, however, seems to indicate that as Turkey’s relations with its Allies sour, they will turn towards Russia. This trend has been most infamously embodied in Erdogan’s increasingly cozy relationship with Russian President Vladimir Putin and Ankara’s purchase of the Russian S-400 air defense system.
Obviously, this is not an outcome the Alliance desires. It follows that each variable making it more likely should be reexamined to see if it can be resolved without sacrificing core transatlantic values or interests—as the migration bottleneck surely can.
Second, although the European Commission has recently shown solidarity with Greece and other frontline states, migration mismanagement threatens EU cohesion. It has overall led to considerable intra-EU resentment and has coincided with the growing success of Euroskeptic political parties. As the United States’ top export market, the EU’s economic recovery is in the American interest, and the bloc will need solidarity to respond to the economic fallout from the coronavirus.
Further complicating matters is the fact that basic precautionary measures like social distancing and diligent hand-washing are not feasible in overcrowded migrant camps. As such, they are especially vulnerable to viruses, which—if evidence from prior outbreaks is any indication—may eventually spread into host communities, many of which are popular tourist destinations. In other words, migration mismanagement could prolong the outbreak, thereby hindering Europe’s and the world’s recovery.
The refugee-migrant bottleneck is not the sole cause of these tensions, but it is a significant stressor on the bloc’s cohesion, economy, health, and relationship with Turkey. The situation deserves American attention, sympathy, and assistance—and yet, at the moment, we are being decidedly unhelpful. Even before the pandemic, President Trump set the ‘cap’ of refugees to be allowed in the United States in 2020 at 18,000—the lowest in American history.
The United States ought to take advantage of the brief slowdown in global migration to reprioritize this matter. There are many reasons to do so.
a global affairs media network
Ripples through the Mediterranean: Refugees, COVID-19, and Turkey
Photo by Meric Dagli via Unsplash.
July 14, 2020
I
n the midst of lockdowns, social distancing, and self-quarantining, we are sensitized more than ever to the implications of mass migration. Just weeks before the coronavirus took hold of the United States, another crisis reemerged: an apparent renewal of mass migration toward Europe from Turkey.
This crisis has not received the attention it is due in the U.S. It may seem to be something occurring quite literally on distant shores and therefore not our concern. However, this is not the case; other than the obvious humanitarian implications, this crisis has ripple effects for the stability of our alliances, our trade relationships, and public health.
What Happened
In March 2016, the EU made a desperate agreement with Turkey to alleviate a migration crisis whose sheer numbers had overwhelmed their ability to receive and relocate refugees, leading to stiflingly overcrowded reception sites. In that deal, Turkey agreed to hold refugees traversing its territory and take back some that had left in exchange for concessions from the EU: increased funding; fewer visa restrictions; and expedited talks to realize its long-held goal of joining the Union.
Since then, Turkey has exceeded its capacity, taking in 3.6 million Syrian refugees and 4 million overall. Turkish citizens, who assumed their host duties would be temporary, are increasingly upset—and occasionally violently so. Further complicating matters, although the international community is calling for a ceasefire because of the coronavirus, a continued assault by government forces on the last Syrian rebel holdout in Idlib is likely inevitable. This would trigger a new wave of refugees.
Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan has often alleged that Brussels is not living up to its side of the deal and threatened to renege. It was perhaps unsurprising therefore when, in late February, Turkey began to allow—and possibly even help—tens of thousands of migrants and refugees to resume travel toward Europe.
The EU, despite the time the 2016 Agreement bought them, has failed to reform its system for relocating refugees. Known as the Dublin Mechanism, this system places a disproportionate burden on countries of first arrival and makes it easy for more removed countries to decline to help—even when they have committed to. The result is a bureaucratic bottleneck in frontline states, where conditions in reception centers like the ones on the Greek islands of Lesbos, Samos, and Chios remain unbearably overcrowded.
So when new refugees began arriving on their doorstep, the extreme Greek response was also unsurprising: it suspended asylum applications; increased military presence at border sites; and unconscionably tried to deter refugees by overturning their boats or firing tear gas and live rounds at them.
Why We Should Care
While global migration is slowing during the pandemic, the underlying causes of these shocking events will be waiting when the world returns to some semblance of normalcy. In the meantime, the United States must consider what this crisis means for us. If the moral imperative created by a humanitarian catastrophe is somehow insufficient, there are also concrete American interests at stake.
Most pressing, the bottleneck is creating political ripple effects that damage the cohesion of our alliances. Turkey’s irritation with Brussels regarding the 2016 Agreement is only the latest salt in the wound of a difficult relationship. Turkey first applied to join the EU in 1987 and the bloc’s persistent refusal to let them in—while often warranted—has frustrated Ankara.
Though U.S.-Turkey relations are also thorny, for different reasons, Turkey is undeniably a strategically crucial NATO country. It has the second biggest army in the Alliance and is situated in a valuable geopolitical location. The recent pattern, however, seems to indicate that as Turkey’s relations with its Allies sour, they will turn towards Russia. This trend has been most infamously embodied in Erdogan’s increasingly cozy relationship with Russian President Vladimir Putin and Ankara’s purchase of the Russian S-400 air defense system.
Obviously, this is not an outcome the Alliance desires. It follows that each variable making it more likely should be reexamined to see if it can be resolved without sacrificing core transatlantic values or interests—as the migration bottleneck surely can.
Second, although the European Commission has recently shown solidarity with Greece and other frontline states, migration mismanagement threatens EU cohesion. It has overall led to considerable intra-EU resentment and has coincided with the growing success of Euroskeptic political parties. As the United States’ top export market, the EU’s economic recovery is in the American interest, and the bloc will need solidarity to respond to the economic fallout from the coronavirus.
Further complicating matters is the fact that basic precautionary measures like social distancing and diligent hand-washing are not feasible in overcrowded migrant camps. As such, they are especially vulnerable to viruses, which—if evidence from prior outbreaks is any indication—may eventually spread into host communities, many of which are popular tourist destinations. In other words, migration mismanagement could prolong the outbreak, thereby hindering Europe’s and the world’s recovery.
The refugee-migrant bottleneck is not the sole cause of these tensions, but it is a significant stressor on the bloc’s cohesion, economy, health, and relationship with Turkey. The situation deserves American attention, sympathy, and assistance—and yet, at the moment, we are being decidedly unhelpful. Even before the pandemic, President Trump set the ‘cap’ of refugees to be allowed in the United States in 2020 at 18,000—the lowest in American history.
The United States ought to take advantage of the brief slowdown in global migration to reprioritize this matter. There are many reasons to do so.
